


Playing with a Genius

by beckdarkthrone



Category: Scorpion (TV 2014)
Genre: Blood, Blood Kink, Case Mentions, Cutting, Eating Disorder (Future Chapters), F/M, Kinky sex, Look I just wrote this bc I like the idea of a dark Walter, Megan O'Brien Death, Mental Illness, Mentally Enabled, Rough Sex, Self destruction, Sex, Smut, Struggling with Emotions, Walter O'Brien Emotions, genius, mature - Freeform, science talk, scorpion, self harm mention, tw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:54:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26926936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beckdarkthrone/pseuds/beckdarkthrone
Summary: Bee pushes Walter's emotional buttons... Just to see what he is capable of.
Relationships: Walter O'Brien/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 14





	1. Pushing Buttons

We all struggle into the garage after the longest two days of our lives. Happy holds onto Toby as he puts her down on the couch to look at her ankle, honestly only she would get her leg trapped in the rope used to help us escape from the third story window… I brush more soot off my black clothes as I walk past them straight to the kitchen, grabbing the communal bottle of gin. I think I earnt some. Why we always end up doing things like escaping a burning building because a server room overheated due to a malicious DDOS attack sent from Syria? I don’t know. Walter follows into the garage soon after I sit on my desk, his feral mood seeping through the air. Both Toby and Happy ignore him, Paige is still outside talking to Cabe and Sylvester about Ralph’s last school project, which leaves me to talk to him. I don’t. Not yet. Too exhausted. I lie back on my desk and breathe, listening to the humming of Happy and Toby putting Happy back together, and then gather their things to leave for home.

“Hey Bumble Bee, we are leaving” Toby calls, picking up his last bag, lugging it over his shoulder. I smile, always loving the nickname.

“Yeah Bee, we will see you tomorrow” Happy says, joining him.

I salute with my bottle, smiling at them. “Seeya guys tomorrow, look after yourselves” I respond before Toby essentially picks Happy up and takes her to his car.

Not long after, Sly pokes his head in the door.

“Bee, I am leaving, Cabe took Paige and Ralph already sorry, Ralph was so sleepy” Sly says quickly, before waving and heading home himself.

Oh shit, that leaves me, and Walter. Walter, who got into arguments with the head of the CIA, FBI and MI6 trying to finish the case. Walter, who hasn’t looked any of the team in the eye since his sister died a few days ago.I sit cross legged on my desk, pulling off my dirty jumper and soot covered shoes, getting comfy.

I think. And think. And think. Unlike the others, I do not have a specific… field of genius. I just am. I didn’t even know I was a genius until I ran into Walter 3 years ago at a free seminar. Coming from my... background meant a distinct lack of educational resources, so after hours seminars and lecturers was about my only source of educational materials. It was on _Gravitational Singularity Theorems_. I hadn’t studied Physics much in my life, but the concept seemed relatively simple after reading a few textbooks. Apparently, no one else felt that way, and that grabbed Walters attention. I try to use my knowledge of psychology, displacements, emotional immaturity, avoidance and, well... Walter to try and gauge what he is feeling. Myself, I too struggle with understanding and expressing emotions, I am probably the LAST person to try talk to him about this... We have together gone to many symposiums on all the facets of human psychology in order to fit in better to society... Yet here we are.

I sigh, putting the bottle down, and putting my hair into a bun. I can do this. I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the dark window, I do look like I just jumped out of a burning building…. Lucky I always wear black!! And lucky my hair is black I suppose... my pale skin is free of soot, but I can’t say the same for the rest of my outfit. I creep quietly upstairs to Walters room, careful not to spook him. Before he sees me, I watch him. He is sitting on his bed, staring at wall. Not moving. But I can tell he is thinking. Thinking deeply. When he gets like this, he is oblivious to the world. I could probably stand in front of him saying his name and he wouldn’t acknowledge my existence. I wonder what his brain is whizzing about on. Megan? Paige? The group? The case? The many authority members he upset today? Though I admit, watching Walter smart mouth authority is one of the things I adore about him. 

Without any warning, Walter suddenly stands up, turns to the wall behind him, and punches his hand straight through the wall and plaster board.

“FUCK” he screams, before pulling his hand out – now bloody – and resuming his same position on the end of the bed.

DID WALTER JUST SWEAR? I rack every memory in my brain – every memory of all my experiences, I never forget anything – trying to see if Walter has ever sworn before? Once. When he found out his family was in town. That did not end well… I do not move from my spot around the corner on the stairs. What do I do? I think about what Toby and Paige would say. Talk to him. Approach him. Ask what’s wrong. I take a deep breath and finish my ascent up the stairs.

“Walter” I say quietly. He doesn’t respond. I sigh, it’s going to be one of those nights.

I sit next to him on the bed.

“Hey Walt, please listen to me. Please talk to me. What’s wrong?” I try to say as sympathetically as possible. It sounded great to my ears.

A few moments later, Walter looks up at me like he just realised I was there, then he glances down as his know bruising and bloody knuckle.

“Ah…” Was all he said, as he flexed his fingers, causing some blood to trickle down his arm.

Without thinking, I grab his hand to examine the damage. “You’ve got a few cuts but no splinters, do you want me to clean them?” I ask.

Walter sits silently, no facial expression. I search around his room for his medical kit. To most, his space looks like a mess, but I have memorised what each pile means, where they are, and what is in each of them. Pulling a bandage and rubbing alcohol out of a little kit in the corner of his closet, I kneel in front of Walter, looking up at him. He doesn’t meet my eyes. He continues to stare at the wall behind me. I take the opportunity to say what I know one should say during these circumstances, while starting to clean away the blood on his forearm.

“I know Megan dying has really… hurt you Walter, and I know that you must not know what to do with these feelings –“I start to say before Walter cuts me off.

“I am fine” he says in a monotone voice, meeting my eyes. I glance down at the still bloody hand I am holding, to make a point.

“Yeah, fine” I say with an attitude.

I begin to clean his hand again when it reaches up, clasping around my neck. Walter stands up, pushing us towards the far wall in his bedroom. The only wall clean of mathematical equations, diagrams of his USSR Rockets, and blueprints of the latest NASA space craft. Walter pushes me hard against the wall, pushing his body against mine, his hand clasping tighter around my neck. It makes me smile. Walter knows he can’t scare me. I have pushed his buttons many times to see what he would do with antagonisation. It’s one of my flaws, Happy has no sense of humour, Toby gambles, Sly has OCD, I push people’s buttons for fun. Now it’s time to play with Walter. To see if he is capable of what I think he is.

“Don’t. Push me. Bee” Walter says through his teeth, knowing my enjoyment for playing.

I smirk. I would be lying if I hadn’t thought of Walter in a sexual way. Though he most certainly doesn’t come off as the kind of person to be sexual, sometimes I get vibes, or glimpses into what he could be. A snide comment here or there, when his shirt rises up when he reaches the corner of his white board, showing his hips, or a moody smirk only I see.

“Or what?” I ask, hoping he will continue. I know it is wrong to use his emotions for my gain, especially when he certainly doesn’t know what they are. But Walter is smart enough to know my end game. He knows me better than anyone. He confirms my theory.

“You want to push me, don’t you? See what the _feelings_ make me do? What the anger makes me do?” Walter murmurs to me, his fingers releasing off my neck slightly, but his body still pressed up against me. I feel a slight pulse from below his belt. Is it working?

I decide now is not the time for niceties “Yes.” I admit, “I want to see what you got O’Brien. You always act in control, like you’re superior, like you’re more than me, than everyone else here. Well 197, prove it” I say tauntingly.

Walter lets go of me completely and steps back slightly and my heart drops, did I push him too far? He won’t play? Before I can dwell on these questions, Walter lightly touches where he was holding me by the neck, revealing blood on me. Walter looks at me, asking with his eyes if that bothers me. I smile again.

“Ok.” He simply says.

Grasping both of my hands, he pushes me against the wall again, kissing my exposed neck roughly. I moan, encouraging him to be as rough as possible.

“Let go Walt… You don’t need to be in control with me” I whisper, my eyes closed as he continues his onslaught to my collar bones. Walter grunts in a response. Interesting.

Walter lets go of my hands for a second, which I exploit, quickly reaching for the hem of his shirt and pulling it up over his head. I smile. I always knew there was something nice under there. My eyes wander quickly over his body and arms and stop suddenly when I see neat rows of healed cuts from his shoulder blade all the way down to the mid forearm. Walter stops kissing my chest when he realises what I have seen. We meet each others eyes for a second before I take the chance to kiss him deeply on the lips, meeting his tongue.

“You aren’t going to ask?” Walter whispers against my mouth, as he grabs my pants and pushes them off my legs.

“No” I say back, “not now”.

Walter stops and pulls off his own pants while I remove what’s left of my shirt. Before I get to appreciate him fully naked, he lifts me up against the wall with a soft grunt and places himself against my wet entry.

“You sure?” Walter asks me, waiting for my consent.

I lean down and whisper into his ear “Hurt me Walter. Do it. Show me what you’re made of”

I lean back against the wall and watch Walters eyes darken at the thought of my response. I knew it. I knew there was another side to him.

Without warning. He plunges deep inside me, both his hands on my ass, digging into the flesh. I hold on tight, one hand on his shoulder and the other in his hair and he begins mercilessly pounding into me.

“Is THIS what you wanted Bee? This? Me?” Walter grunts between thrust. I throw my head back and laugh as I push him deeper into me, answering his questions. Without warning me, Walter takes all of my weight and turns us, throwing me down onto his bed, landing on top of me with a heavy thud. Before I can get my breath back, Walter kisses me, his bloody hand holding my face still.

My hair, now free of its hair tie becomes wrapped up in Walter’s fist as he pounds me without stopping. With each pound, I feel myself getting closer and closer.

“Fucking hell Bee… I needed this… We need to do this more often” Walter moans, pulling my hair harder. That was all I need. I come loudly, digging my face into Walter shoulder and he rides me though my orgasm.

I lie spent under Walter, who is still using me, “I am not stopping until I come Bee. This is what you wanted right?” Walter says harshly, as he cups my face and kisses me again. I smile against his lips. Yes, this is exactly it, I think. 

After a few more minutes of Walter holding me so close I cannot breathe, and ruthless pounding, Walter finishes in me with some whispered swear words. “ _Again, with the swearing?”_ My left-brain notes, while I come down from this excellent experiment.

Walter eventually rolls off me and lies next to me. I sit up and look at him, noting his hand bleeding freely now, blood staining my face, and his, as well as the bed spread. But I don’t care.

“Well?” I ask, watching Walter’s face.

Walter sits up as well, examining the damage on his hand, pulling at the clotted skin. I don’t stop him from doing it, I just watch him tug at the inflamed skin.

“I do… think, I feel better” He admits.

I lie back and laugh “I knew you had this in you O’Brien, you’re not just a sweet little nerd, are you?” I ask, eyeing the scars on his arms. Walter follows my line of sight to his arms.

“No.”


	2. Focus. This helps me focus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What Walter does to hone his focus.

It’s fun to go about life now knowing what I do about Walter. The little demented sex demon underneath his façade of cool, calm and collected. His attitude is sexier, his bravery is sexier, his snideness is sexier. I do not let is affect my work though, I want what happened a few weeks ago to happen again.

Though we never REALLY spoke about the whole Megan situation I think he is handling it a lot better? There have definitely been less snapping and attitude towards the team, that has been reserved for people with IQ’s lower than 150.

There are things I never noticed that I do now, now that I have seen what I assumed to be Walter’s biggest secret. We did not discuss that either. The neat row of cuts up his right arm. And when I took a closer look, up his left arm too, up his sides and down his hips. I have noticed that he has been rolling up his sleeves less and less – though the cuts stopped on his mid forearm, he has stopped showing his arm at all. He does not eat, he rarely sleeps. I always assumed he just did it when we weren’t around. But now I wonder if he eats or sleeps at all? These questions in my mind result in me observing Walter nearly 24/7, something Toby doesn’t fail to notice. While I am sitting at my desk, watching Walter do the exact measurements of the minimum velocity is rocket would need to reach to win the 15 million dollars, Toby slides across my desk, blocking my view.

“So, Bee…” He begins, crossing his hands in his lap. I glare up at him, letting him know I am not ready for what is about to occur.

“I have noticed an increased interest in Walter on your behalf as of late… I was wondering why that was?” Toby asks, though I assume he already knows… At least some of it. The hickeys Walter left on my neck took DAYS to fade. Though no one questioned that. Nor did they question why Walter’s hand was wrapped up for a week, or why Happy needed to fill the whole in Walter’s wall.

“It’s nothing” I respond, nonchalantly, hoping Toby will get the hint. He doesn’t. He smiles.

“Has it got anything to do with the love marks on your neck a few weeks ago? Your increased worry about Walter on jobs? The dilation of the pupils whenever he runs his mouth to… well… anyone?” Toby says quietly, looking around to see if anyone was watching them.

I sneer “you’re the psychological prodigy, you figure it out”. Hoping Toby will make his own deductions and leave it at that. He does. Toby smiles at me knowingly and makes his way back to Happy’s side of the garage.

I look back to Walter and see I have missed him completing the calculations, and he is now pouring a small amount of fuel into a compartment of the rocket. I start to pay attention to the paper I am reading; I have recently been interested on the inner workings of the Italian Fascist movements in the 1920’s. Before I can start my next chapter, I hear Walter.

“Godamnit…” He hisses under his breath, that’s enough to catch my attention. And everyone else’s in the garage. They all start walking towards him.

“Walt? You alright?” Happy calls, making her way to his side of the room.

Walter sighs under his breath again, and I see he has spilt some of the fluid on his shirt.

“Yeah, sorry, just spilt it” Walter mumbles, shaking his hands and putting down the canister of liquid. That spurs Happy into action.

“Walter, take off your shirt, if you leave that on your skin any longer it is going to start burning, you know that!” Happy scolds, as her and Toby start trying to take off Walter’s shirt, assuming the look of panic in his eyes is because of the fuel, and not because they are taking off his shirt, not because of what’s underneath. That confirmed my suspicion that he was hiding what he did to himself.

Interesting, I have never known Walter to be overly sneaky. Before I can step in to fix this, they have torn the already sizzling shirt off him, and his chest and arms are on full display.

At first, they don’t say anything, not looking too closely at Walter as he stands there awkwardly while Happy disposes of the shirt, but obviously its Toby who notices first.

“Woah buddy… Um, do we need to talk?” Toby asks quietly, in an overly professional manner.

Walter glares daggers straight into Toby.

“No.” Walter snaps, pushing past Toby, past me and upstairs to the solitude of his room. Happy comes back, unaware of what has just happened.

“Where’s Walt? I have to yell at him for being an idiot” Happy says, in her Happy way. Toby ignores her and looks up to Walters room.

He looks back at me, then Happy.

“Happy… you’ve known Walter for what…. 7 years?” He asks. Happy looks at him, confused.

“Yeah?” she answers.

“Have you ever…. Seen…. Him…. Hurt himself? Intentionally?” Toby asks, I can hear the psychiatrist come out in his voice. Happy doesn’t answer. He looks to me.

“Bee? You?” I don’t answer either, trying to keep the look of guilt for knowing off my face.

Happy gasps. “yeah, I have” she says, “he said he got them from an experiment accident… and that’s that, I never thought of it again.” She said sadly. 

“Why Toby? What did you see?” she questions.

“Cuts. Lots of them” Toby answers before walking to his desk, sitting down, picking up 2 books at once to read. Happy looks at me, confused, before joining him.

I quietly stalk upstairs and finds Walter at his whiteboard, writing out lines of the problem P Verses NP. I knock quietly on the wall, trying not to spook him. He stops writing slightly, but then continues.

I walk into his room and sit on his bed, trying to look as casual as possible.

“You know Walt, we never did talk about your arms?” I say, trying to seem unphased, but in all honesty, I am curious. As someone who has spent their lives delving into all self-destructive and hedonistic activities for fun, I can’t seem to see Walter being interested in that life either.

Walter ignores me and continues to write on his whiteboard.

“Come on Walter…. It’s me” hoping to relax him enough he will talk to me.

Walter stops writing, slowly puts the cap on his pen, and sits next to me.

I look up at him, he sits with his hands in his lap, wearing an oversized shirt I haven’t ever seen him in.

Walter sighs, playing with the nearly healed cuts on his hand.

“I started when I was about 7, I guess…” Walter started “I just… Feelings you know? I don’t get them. They hurt, but why? They don’t go away when you want them to? Generally, I can push them away. Generally, I can ignore them. I don’t need them. But sometimes, I can’t. I can’t…. Focus. This helps me focus” He finishes, lifting up his right arm quickly to emphasise then lowers it again.

I nod in understanding, I have been cutting for years, but for me it’s more self-indulgent rather than emotional. I like to test and play, even with myself and my own personal limits.

“Do you still do it?” I asked, out of curiosity.

Walter looks at me intensely “you’re not mad? He asks.

I laugh, much to his surprise.

“Mad? Walt, that would be hypocritical don’t you think?” I say, laughing again. Walter looks at me confused before realisation dawns, and he replaces his mask of indifference.

“Where? I didn’t see?” He asks, moving the sleeve of my black cardigan up, I let him, not phased.

Underneath are also lines of neat scars, white and pink, years old, months old, and weeks old. Walter runs his fingers along them.

“I didn’t notice?” he says, still looking at them.

I shrug, “you were occupied” I say with a smirk.

Walter doesn’t answer. He stops playing with my sleeve and lifts up his own.

On his brown skin are marks very similar to mine, if anything, they’re deeper. None of them look relatively new though.

I follow his lead and run my fingers along his. I have always been interested in the destruction of others, their feelings, their reactions, their pain. Walter is interesting to me.

“What did you use?” I ask, catching a glimpse at Walt’s face.

“Scalpel” he answers, matter-of-factly. I nod.

“When was the last time?”

“Uh… about 6 months ago? I nearly got caught by Sly, it scared me. So, I utilise other things….” He trails off, watching me touch his skin. 

I don’t feign ignorance for the sake of Walter.

“You don’t eat now?” I say, sitting further back on Walter’s bed, getting comfortable. I kick off my doc’s and sit cross legged, inviting Walter to get comfy. He doesn’t, but he does answer.

“Uh… yeah, you noticed?”

I laugh again.

“Yes, Walter, I noticed. You’ve lost more than 10 pounds since we fucked”.

Walter doesn’t say anything, he just looks at me then takes a deep breath.

“It feels good, saying no. No to food. No, I am not hungry. No, I can’t eat this, I like it. Then people leave me alone. It helps me think” He explains, and I see his hand wrap around his right wrist. His fingers meet. Damn he has gotten small; he was never large to begin with.

“You can’t do it forever you know that right?” I say, stating the obvious. But with geniuses, sometimes you have to state the obvious.

Walter nods, but doesn’t respond. We sit in silence for a long time.

“Walt, Bee, we got food!” I hear Toby yell from downstairs. I feel Walter freeze momentarily before he stands up and offers me his hand. I take it and grab my boots.

“I am not eating” Walter states as we walk downstairs.

“Ok” I reply, grabbing his hand.


End file.
